Ticklish
by PsychologyGeek81
Summary: Juliette finds out by accident something Warner would prefer she didn't know.


**authors note: this one is based off one of Tahereh's tweets where she said that Warner was ticklish and mad about it. Enjoy.**

The air was tranquil as the brightest shades of sunset poured through the windows, basking the room in a warm orange glow. My eyes stared upwards, watching the warm light reflect off the chandelier, sending shadows scattering across the ceiling. The glow of the setting sun felt right for this moment, like a visible reflection of the buzzing contentment that flowed through my body. I felt so peaceful, my head resting on Warner's chest as he lies next to me, listening to the soft beat of his heart whilst his fingers move gently through my hair as it billows out behind me. I wish there were more moments in the day where we could just stay like this, quietly wrapped in each other's arms like time didn't exist.

"So how did this afternoon go?" I sigh lazily, my voice half asleep. It's early Sunday evening and we had just returned from eating dinner. We have no more work to do, and Sundays are always our most relaxed day because most of the week's work has been done and a new influx of issues and demands are preparing themselves for our attention in the following days, leaving us with the occasional free afternoon. Sometimes we spend our free afternoons together, however today we did not. I had a much needed catch up with my friends from Omega Point and Warner spent the afternoon with Adam and James, his brothers.

"Fine," he answers quietly, his tone neutral. I crane my neck to look at him, watching the dimples in his cheeks as he smiles. His eyes sweep over my face before meeting mine, they seem bright with anticipation, like he's waiting for my next words.

"Are you making progress?" I ask, vague, but he knows what I mean. Warner's relationship with Adam was complicated, to say the very least. The two had hated each other, almost killed each other, competed for my affections and only after all that had Warner found out that he and Adam shared the same blood. They were attempting to establish some kind of positive relationship, but both of them had a lot of old feelings and actions to put behind them, which was never going to be quick or easy.

"I think the two of us have progressed as much as we can for now," he explains vacantly, letting out a shallow sigh.

"Good," I mutter, being the first to speak again after a few moments of silence." So, what did you guys do?"

"James insisted that we help him with his homework," Warner answers, hints of softness returning to his voice. His soft spot for James was obvious. It was hard for anybody to not be charmed by the boy, but the bond that the two of them had already began to form was clearly of considerable importance to Warner.

"At least there's no strain on your relationship with James," I add, bursting with happiness that he was finally getting to know the family that he never knew he had. He looks down at me through golden lashes, clearly sharing my thankfulness.

"True, although with Adam now it's much less of a strain, more an awkwardness," he continues, his voice falling one note flatter. I let silence eat up a few seconds.

"Do you talk to him?" I ask quietly, interested in how their relationship is progressing.

"Sometimes, and not often with depth. There's still a certain degree of uneasiness but we are willing to put our own differences aside for James's sake," explains Warner, his breath just reaching my face.

"That's good," I say softly. "At least he knows he's got his brothers looking out for him." I rest my head back on his shoulder, slipping my hand under his sweater and trailing my fingers across his stomach, smooth and warm under my touch. My fingers curl around his side and he suddenly tenses, his entire torso jolting beneath my fingers and his hand flying to my wrist. His movements startle me and I draw away, my eyes searching his face for any signs of pain.

"What was that?" I ask, concerned. He blinks at me a few times, releasing my wrist before speaking.

"Nothing," he answers too quickly, shaking his head as he speaks. He averts his gaze for a second and I detect something hidden in his eyes, I watch the familiar features of denial take hold of his face and trap it. His jaw tightens, his smile fades. He's hiding something, and I want to know what.

"No... That wasn't nothing," I insist, anchoring my attention to his face in the hope that he meets my gaze. He does, staring back at me like I'm something vaguely suspicious. I raise my eyebrows.

"Yes it was," he replies, more confidently than last time but still not confident enough to make me give up my inquiry.

"No... You tensed when I..." I begin, going over the encounter again in my mind as I muse. Did I hurt him somehow? I barely touched him. Was it a shooting pain? Pain causes more of a wince than a jolt and Warner usually ignores pain anyway. I think of what could have caused such a reaction that he would be in denial over it. I stop talking, finally realizing what it was that made him tense. I can barely contain my amusement.

"No I didn't," he counters hastily. I study his face, his mouth does not move except to speak, lips pursed, face drawn into fierce stoicism, eyes flickering. I can't hide it much longer. My cheeks are struggling with the effort not to let the grin building up inside of me burst free and take reign over my face, so instead I force the tension out slowly, letting the smile creep into view, Warner watching in silent confusion.

"You're ticklish, aren't you?" I beam, the wicked grin on my face getting wider. His response was instantaneous.

"No." I raise my eyebrows in amusement at his utter predictability.

"Liar," I accuse teasingly. His face reflects confusion but his eyes give him away.

"I'm not."

"You are."

"I don't know what you're ta-" Warner starts, but falls silent when I squeeze the skin at his sides, causing him to jerk and suck in a sharp breath, his hand instinctively diving for my wrist again.

"You're ticklish," I say once more, wondering how he still possibly thinks that he's convincingly denying it. He lets go of my wrist again and I shift, straddling his legs so that he's trapped beneath me. I shove up his shirt and sweater and continue tickling his stomach and sides with a much lighter method, watching on intently as he fights his body's reaction. At one point he tries to flip me over, but I manage to stop him, intercepting his hands when they dart for my wrist.

"Stop it," he breathes, glaring up at me. I try my best not to look too amused.

"Well, if you're not ticklish then this won't bother you," I tease, running my fingers gently over his bare stomach, watching him try so desperately to contain himself. His lips are one tight line, pressed together with such force that they merge into one. His eyes are scowling up at me and his stomach muscles are tensed hard as stone as I trail my fingers along the exposed skin just above the waistband of his pants, trying everything I could to break his defense.

"Juliette, don't," he warns, squinting at me through narrow eyes. I stop, but only temporarily.

"Hmm," I mumble sweetly. He shoots me another pained look, begging me not to tease him. I giggle for a second. "Admit it, you're ticklish." I say, placing my finger back onto his stomach, observing the brief flash of panic that crosses his face before he slowly exhales.

"Fine," he says, utterly defeated. "I may be slightly ticklish." I find it hard not to be amused by how annoyed by this he is, it's adorable. At least now he's not the only one who can use tickling as a weapon. Glancing down at the scowl on his falling face, I touch his cheek.

"Hey, it's nothing to be embarrassed about," I say, brushing my thumb across his face. He pulls away from me and shakes his head, smiling like he's just seen the most amusing thing in the world.

"I'm not embarrassed by it," He insists, his smile now gone and his eyes no longer shining.

"Then why does it bother you?" I ask.

"It doesn't," he answers, however I do not believe truthfully. I smile anyway. A few moments of silence pass before he rises up on his elbows, studying me intently as I climb off his legs to kneel beside him.

"And I may be ticklish," he begins, hints of a smirk beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth. His eyes shine with playfulness, but I barely have time to register it before he sits up and pulls me into his arms. "But I'm still not as ticklish as you," he whispers against my ear.

"Don't you da-" I start, but am cut off my torrent of giggles that burst from my throat as Warner starts to relentlessly tickle my sides. I roll onto my side, kicking and squealing as he tortures me, knowing exactly where to squeeze to make me lose any control over myself I had left.

"Stop it," I squeak between high pitched giggles, but no such relief occurs. Warner pulls me against his chest, rolling onto his back so my body lies flat on top of his and I have nowhere unexposed. His hands continue their attack on my sides and stomach, causing me to swat at them uselessly and kick my legs frantically in front of me, feeling them tangle in the sheets as I struggle.

"Aaron, please." I plead, squirming against him as I attempt to break out of his vice like grip. The tickling slowly eases up, but not before Warner gets a few more squeals out of me by trailing his hands gently across my sides.

"Alright," he says quietly, rolling back onto his side where I fall against the mattress, taking deep breaths as I recover from the last few minutes. He rests beside me, holding himself up by one elbow.

"Okay, so we're both ticklish," I state, still sucking air into my lungs. Warner leans over me, resting his elbow at the side of my head and trapping me under him with one leg. He tucks a messy strand of hair behind my ear.

"Just don't try anything," He requests.

"I make no promises," I reply teasingly, flashing him the most innocent smile I could. His eyes fall closed as a silent laugh escapes from his mouth, a warm smile fitting into place on his face.

"Well, how about we stop the tickling and do something else," he suggests, his voice low and his eyes dark. I feel my pulse jump as his eyes study me caged beneath him.

"What did you have in mind?" I wonder. He leans down and kisses me hard on the lips, trapping the bottom one gently between his teeth before slowly pulling away. A flash of heat pulses through my body. This definitely sounds like a better plan.

"I think that sounds like a good plan, wouldn't you agree?" he says wickedly, his face hovering inches from mine.

"Yes," I manage to splutter out as his eyes bore down at me, bright green and alert. I can't seem to find the strength to pull my gaze from him, drawn magnetically to his perfect features. His face closes the small space between us as his lips fall against mine, covering them in soft lingering kisses. I pull him down against me, running one hand through his hair as he slips his arm under me, holding me tighter against him. His lips are intense pressing against mine with the perfect amount of pressure to make my insides melt and my blood simmer in my veins. His teeth graze my lip and his tongue slides gently into my mouth and I can't think any more, I'm aware of nothing but his lips on mine and my heart hammering in my chest and the heat that's spreading throughout my entire body. As we lose sense of everything but each other his hands blaze across my skin, and this time they aren't tickling me.


End file.
